


"Yes, I'm aware. Your point?" (Day 6)

by demiclar



Series: Fictober 2019 [5]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, I'm finally using the fictober prompts, M/M, Post-Cayde-6 Death, The Guardian sides with the Drifter, Yes I know it's not october, set during Forsaken, solving your problems with excessive Gambit, the Vanguard is not happy about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25120006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demiclar/pseuds/demiclar
Summary: Casimir sides with the Drifter and decides to damn the consequences when they confront him.
Relationships: The Drifter/Male Guardian (Destiny)
Series: Fictober 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510793
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	"Yes, I'm aware. Your point?" (Day 6)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I suck at summaries but this is a little self indulgent fic about my brand new OC Casimir, and one of his 'friends'/clanmates Zuleia, who also happens to be Ikora's protege. Anyways, I hope you like it!

Casimir didn’t expect to see Zuleia waiting for him outside Drifter’s stall in the Bazaar, but as he straightened up from under the grate, he recognized the soft red of her robes like it hadn’t been weeks since he’d seen her last. She was standing just in front of him, a little off to the right, towards the entrance to the alleyway. As if she wouldn’t dare take any extra steps into the space. She was alone, which he did expect. As soon as he’d recognized her robes, he knew that plenty of other guardians likely had as well, and were now all standing an innocent distance away while they eavesdropped far too obviously.

Nearby, there were already a half a dozen guardians that had conveniently decided that now was the perfect time for a heaping bowl of ramen, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t even noon. Across from them, at least a half a dozen others had become intensely interested in the goods that the vendors sold just across the walkway from the shop. The crowd at least blocked Ikora from view, so Casimir couldn’t see if the Vanguard was watching her second with her sharp eyes. A small mercy, but certainly not something he could hide behind, and the other Guardians were foolish if they thought their feigned disinterest had saved them from the Warlock’s attention. He knew every single Guardian in the premise had already been marked by both Ikora and Zuleia. He could already identify some of them by their armor and looks alone, and he knew Zuleia could identify more. He also knew they wouldn’t go anywhere near the Drifter until Ikora’s second was gone, and he knew everyone—himself and Drifter included—knew exactly who she’d come to see.

Best to get it over with, then.

“Zuleia.” He said as he moved to walk past her. He could feel the Guardians’ eyes on him as she stepped to walk beside him, and he was glad not for the first time that he’d taken to wearing his helmet all the time now.

“It’s not often I see you around these parts of the Tower.” He continued. It wasn’t a lie. They only times he saw her was when he reported to the Vanguard in person—rarely—or when they ran into each other at their clan’s shared quarters—equally rare. Still, it was as warm of a greeting as he could offer, and he’d decided he may as well _try_ to be civil, if only not to cause a scene.

She hummed as she fell into step beside him, following him up the set of steps that would lead them to the corridor back to the courtyard above them.

“Yes.” She said simply. “I’ve been busy.”

He bit down on a snort. They were all busy, always. Not to mention it was the same excuse he’d heard her use when Tiber had asked her why she hadn’t noticed him slipping. Why she hadn’t done anything about it. Tiber, their fireteam and clan leader that treated their whole group like family when they were about as far from it as they could get. They were clanmates, he’d told her, they were supposed to look out for each other. Casimir wasn’t sure any of them believed it but Tiber himself. She’d been busy. He scowled beneath his helmet.

“Word on the street is you’re getting close to the Drifter.” She said, a little too casually. Casimir kept his gaze forward. “There are rumors you might even be running on his crew.”

Their footsteps sounded into a rhythm as they walked, the soft push of Zuleia’s boots paired with the heavy clap of his own greaves. The noises echoed off the corridor before them, an overarching melody to the beat of the sweeperbot working ahead of them.

“I’m aware.” He said at last, and her eyes cut to him sharply. “Your point being?”

For what felt like the first time in his many lives, Zuleia looked at a loss for words. Her mouth opened quickly, and hung there, and she even stuttered a step before she shook her head to herself and quickly regained her pace. She walked beside him for a few heated beats before speaking.

“Cas,” the nickname from her mouth made him want to strangle her. The urge was sudden but overwhelming, and the leather of his gloves seemed to groan under his clenched fists as he fought to keep his breathing steady.

She had no right. No right to call him anything like that. No right to go back to a time when they might have been close to what friends were supposed to be. She’d forfeited any right to use that name when he’d asked for her help and she’d run.

“I’ve been keeping it off the Vanguard’s radar.” She told him, her voice a touch softer now. Perhaps she’d noticed his anger, the Light he was fighting to keep beneath the surface.

“I know a lot has happened.” She continued, “But Zavala and Ikora still need you, and if they see that you’re running with the Drifter, if they see that you trust him, they’re going to think—”

“Going to think what, Zuleia?” He demanded, whirling to face her so quickly her whole body went rigid. It was well suppressed and quickly relaxed, but he knew the telltale signs of her fight or flight. The way her posture widened, the tightening of her hands, the tensing of her arms. He'd fought beside her so long he'd never forget the signs.

“Are they going to think that I don’t want to be their loyal dog anymore?” He pressed, taking a step towards Zuleia. To her credit, she didn’t retreat. “Are they going to think that maybe I’m tired of following them blindly? That I’m tired of not getting a say?”

Zuleia’s surprise had dimmed to an unsuppressed glare, and she rose her chin to him as he towered over her. Where had that boldness been when he’d needed it?

“They’re going to think you’re going down the hated path.” She told him, and he laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that echoed through his helmet and reverberated down his bones.

“Let them.” He told her. “I don’t care what they think of me anymore.”

“Cas-“

“And stop calling me that.” He added with a snap, already turning to face away from her.

He made it all of three steps before she spoke again.

“I came here to help you.”

Something _hurt_ in his chest at her words, and he had to take a few painful breaths before the feeling subsided.

“You had your chance to help me.” He breathed, not daring to face her. Even with his helmet on, he didn’t want her to see whatever emotions were playing out across his face. Whatever emotions only she would be able to read. “You wasted it. So did the Vanguard. Drifter didn’t.”

Drifter had helped him. Drifter had seen his broken soul and had taken it as a challenge. She and the Vanguard hadn’t. They’d seen him as another problem they didn’t have the time to fix, and had labeled him as a low priority, as not worth their time before they’d cast him from their minds and had abandoned him to his shattered pieces.

Casimir’s breath didn’t calm for a long while after he left her in the corridor. Not during the hours that he’d played Gambit, or when he’d slaughtered his way through hoards in the name of defending the City. It didn’t calm until long after he’d returned to Drifter in his Derelict, and the rogue had kissed each one of his broken pieces and teased and praised him all the while as he showed him just how each piece fit into the complex puzzle that made up his soul. Zuleia had abandoned him, but Drifter was still here, and he was going to hold on for every second that he believed his shattered, broken soul was actually something that could be fixed.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Drifter isn't really in this fic much at all, but if you'd like to read more about him and Casimir I'm making a fic about the two of them called A Hero's Gambit! Check it out!


End file.
